


FIC: one mile to every inch of [Matt/Andy; crack!fic]

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Crack, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-07
Updated: 2008-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal





	FIC: one mile to every inch of [Matt/Andy; crack!fic]

_yo dude stop burning all your minutes. pay attention to your interview._

Andy smiled faintly at the screen of his phone and moved his thumbs deftly to reply to Matt. He'd been bombing Mixon with random observations all day ( _the guy doing this interview wants to get into pete's pants like right now_ ) and Matt's replies had been constant and filled with enough homely anecdotes to make Andy want to sidle out of this place and head onto the highway, just roll to Fuck City ( _i think i forgot to buy tissue, dude, i gotta go back to the store before work_.).

_bored out of my skull, and I'm at a carnival. come save me._

A carnival in Chicago. It had seem like a good idea to play a show here, but being so close to and yet so far from Fuck City was making Andy feel jittery. In the meantime, he'd just have to endure trailing around the carnival behind the rest of his band-mates, listening to Pete and Patrick's twin-like chatter and Joe throw in the occasional cute drawl. Maybe the interviewer would be forced to recognize that Andy was around here somewhere, maybe pushed forward by Pete, and ask Andy some stupid question. Then Andy would more than likely smile and, if not give a few sly lines, then simply shrug and not answer at all, while Pete stared at him fixedly, as if he could make Andy talk more with the power of his _eyes_ ; it was his modus operandi, Pete should know better by now.

_i would, but i have to jet to the bar soon. bring home something cool for me or i'll lock you out._

Andy tucked his hair behind his ears, a quick one-two with his left hand, before going back to saunter over the beaten earth and tapping out a reply. Walking and typing was his fucking specialty; Patrick joked that Andy's highly trained internal rhythm allowed him to do about fifty things at once; walking and typing was _nothing_.

_yeah ok you big baby._.

Andy looked around disinterestedly; there was a small crowd of giggling girls hopping along behind and when his eyes passed over them, they squealed a little. Andy smiled slightly, then ignored them to scan each of the nearby brightly little tents for something 'cool'.

"Hey, check this out," Joe said excitedly, going over to a booth. Pete followed and therefore, so did the cameras. Joe poked at a few of the figurines on display. "Aww, these are so cute."

A woman in garish swaths of cloth stood behind the worn wooden counter. Apparently, she was supposed to be a gypsy, but her bleached blonde hair and pasty skin kind of ruined the whole image. Andy picked up one of the tiny carved figures, looking at it carefully.

"You did these?" He put it down and picked up another as the woman nodded. They seemed to be depictions of gods and goddesses from differing myths. "Nice."

"Hey, this one has a tiny little guitar-thingy," Pete crowed. "I'm getting this one for Patrick."

"I don't need it," Patrick said, but he still smiled indulgently. "That's a, uh, that's a lyre, by the way."

"That one is Loki, the Norse god," the woman said as Andy's fingers plucked a small contorted figure. "That's when he's--"

"Being punished for Baldr's murder, I know." Andy turned the twisted little man; the face twisted in pain, the hands held up as if to ward off something. There were even tiny shackles or something similar bound around the wrists.

It was super-creepy, albeit very detailed. Matt would _love_ it.

"You know your mythology," the woman said, her eyes gleaming. Andy shrugged.

"I read a lot." He dug into his pocket for his battered wallet. "How much?"

As he was paying, Pete recounted Andy's entire educational background to the interviewer; the dude was looking directly into Pete's eyes, probably not absorbing anything Pete was saying at all.

"Is that true, Andy?" The guy interviewing them asked as he refused the offer of a bag from the woman and just stuck the carved Loki figure in his pocket. It seemed very warm through the material of his jeans. "You did a double-major in university?"

Andy shrugged.

"It's a total lie," Joe said seriously. "Andy Hurley has no form of higher education under his belt."

"Have you actually _seen_ his belt?" Patrick piped up and the interviewer looked confused. "Total lack of education under there. Or, or over it."

Andy wrinkled his nose at them; stupid assholes. He loved them, though, even Pete, who had managed to recapture the attention of the baffled interviewer and they went back to the business of ambling through the noisy carnival, heading towards the sturdy wooden stage at the very end. Andy chanced a look back at the booth they had bought their figurines from, and the woman was gazing right at him, her eyes wide and watchful.

 

* * *

 

"Hey," Matt called as Andy opened the front door, swinging his long legs out of the couch and getting up. Leno blasted on the television, and Matt turned it off before approaching. "You should say something like, ' _oh honey! I'm ho-oome!'_ "

"That would make you the honey." Andy dumped his bag on the floor and rubbed at his gritty eyes. He just wanted drag himself upstairs and to close his eyes and _keep_ them closed for about a week or so, but first...

"I'm sweet! Ask anybody at the bar," Matt said in mock-affront, but his dark eyes were simultaneously delighted and nervous. Andy waited until he was extremely close, and then tilted up his chin.

They'd been doing this for awhile now. The first time Matt had done it, kissed him right on the mouth in a fit of giddy excitement upon Andy's return home, they'd stared at each other dumbly, while Stu went, "Hey, you _kissed_ him!" and Ryan had said from the back door, "What? Who kissed who?" as he had brushed sand from his bare feet.

Matt had been awkward about the whole thing for maybe two minutes; thankfully, since Matt couldn't be awkward about anything for too long, they'd been joking and laughing like normal before Andy found his way to bed and thought for a long while; the next time Andy came home from tour, he'd kissed Matt. Just to even things out.

"What's up with all the _kissing_ around here?" Stu had griped, unfortunate enough to be at the wrong place for both inaugural kissing occasions.

"What?" Kyle that time, not as unlucky as he popped out of the kitchen to gaze curiously at them. "Who's kissing who?"

Now, Andy closed his eyes for the brief, firm press of Matt's mouth against his. It was different from kissing a girl, not because of the height thing, because Andy had hooked up with girls taller than himself, lots of times. As long as the equipment locked together okay, height wasn't a big fucking issue, was it? Andy figured it would be different from anyone else, male or female, just because it was _Matt_.

"What did you bring for me," Matt said with a quick grin as soon as he pulled away. He pawed at Andy playfully and Andy stuck out one hip.

"Left pocket." He watched as Matt pulled out the little figurine, squinting at it. "It's Loki, god of mischief."

"My kinda guy." Matt turned it over, inspecting the shackled wrists and the contorted expression. "Wow, this is seriously creepy. Fucking _awesome_ ," he grinned, mouth full and curved in an amused line and Andy wondered if there was a limit on the whole greeting-kiss thing; they'd never really hammered out the details of it. Actually, Andy was just going along with whatever Matt was up for and apparently, Matt was just up for welcoming his best friend home with a kiss. On the mouth. "Hey, gonna eat before you crash?"

Andy shook his head. He just wanted to brush his teeth, peel off all his clothes and just snuggle into clean, soft sheets. Fuck City sheets. Sheets that were _in_ Fuck City, and if that thought alone didn't make Andy feel all damned warm and happy inside, then nothing would.

"Or, just bed," Matt said even as Andy opened his mouth to explain his detailed plans for sleep, including his deep and never-ending love of Fuck City sheets. "You look like someone beat you with... with--"

"A tired stick."

"A stick made of exhaustion."

"More like a tree."

"Okay, a redwood, one of those big-ass ones out in Cali," Matt concluded, helping Andy to lift his bag from the floor; it wasn't much to lift, but Matt liked helping and Andy liked letting him to what he wanted. "Someone took a redwood tree made of _exhaustion_ and beat Andy Hurley with it. Whatever, you never appreciate the awesomeness of your situation, man. What I wouldn't give to be you, living the life."

"Right, you really want this?" Andy laughed tiredly as they trudged upstairs, going quickly past the other bedrooms. Kyle murmured something in his sleep, loud enough for them to hear it as they slipped by his half-opened door. "You know what it's like. I miss home after the first three or four places we play. _You're_ the one living the life."

"I'm basically the housekeeper around these here parts," Matt said with his general airiness. Andy stopped right in front of his own door and gave him a long, level look. They'd had this conversation before. Matt squinted one eye shut and blinked at him with the other. "Come on, you know it's true."

"It's not." Andy put his hand on the round doorknob and kept staring up at Matt. "You're _home_." And he was really too tired to explain the core concept of Matt being some kind of... of solid center, like a base for homing pigeons. Matt would more likely stare at him and laugh incredulously, and loud enough to wake up everyone else, and Andy would have to deal with everyone's bitch-face at one in the morning.

"Dude, of _course_ I'm home," Matt said with a small smile, and he seemed to understand, anyway. Andy grinned up at him and pushed open his door.

 

* * *

 

About an hour after Andy finally crawled into his bed, he sighed softly as a long, warm body slid in beside him. He barely cracked open his eyes to see Matt place his little Loki figure on the bedside table, with a lot more care than most people would credit him with, before turning to cuddle close, mouth brushing almost by accident on Andy's bare shoulder.

"If you're going to shuffle everything, you have to tell the rest of us," Andy muttered nonsensically, still half-stuck in a dream where Patrick had managed to change up their entire set-list about five minutes before they went on.

"Go back to sleep," Matt ordered softly and Andy did, but not before his brain registered a small, shifting sound, like something moving across a wooden surface.

 

* * *

 

Andy woke up to someone poking him excitedly in his ribs. He also had a fairly large boner.

The poking in the ribs thing wasn't unusual, Matt did it all the time to annoy the fuck out of Andy, who endured it with a zen-like calm. He toured with Pete Wentz; he was used to far worse than random rib-poking. The large boner wasn't weird in itself... just that it felt larger than usual. Hmm, interesting.

"Wake up, wake the _fuck up_!" The person now jabbing him in the shoulder was doing all this jabbing in time with their sputtered words. Andy reached up without opening his eyes, and grabbed onto the offending hand, grasping the wrist tightly. He frowned. If this was Matt, then Matt's wrist shouldn't feel so slender. Or, alternatively, his hand shouldn't feel so big around it.

"Hey, hey, Hurley, you gotta open your eyes," Matt was saying, but there was something completely wrong about the voice. Andy actually spent about five seconds or so trying to puzzle out where he'd heard that particular voice before, until he happened upon the strange fact that he had heard it coming out of his own throat a few hours ago; he opened his eyes open so fast that his eyelids nearly snapped-rolled like malfunctioning shutters.

He gazed numbly at his _own face_ peering so close to his; he could see the flecks of brown in his eyes. He could also see the astounded reflection of the face he himself was currently wearing, which happened to belong to Matt on a normal day.

"Dude," Matt was saying with Andy's voice as he straddled Andy, his eyes almost falling out of his head, they were that wide. "Dude. _Dude_."

"What the fuck. What... back up," Andy finally said and placed his hands on... oh, on his _own chest_ , a little distracted by the way the colourful ink peeked through the spaces not occupied by long brown fingers. "Matt, come on, back up," Andy hissed, because Matt was so intent on inspecting his own face, hovering over Andy and blinking at him. Andy gritted his teeth and Matt frowned.

"Hey, stop that." Matt grabbed him by the jaw and scrunched his cheeks, putting Andy's mouth into a goldfish pucker. "Took years and years of hard work to get my teeth so awesome, cut it out."

"I don't think you're grasping the...the _severity_ of what's going on here... let go of my face," Andy said, struggling to get Matt off. Matt simply clamped his knees tightly into Andy's sides and hung on grimly.

"This is _my_ face," he pointed out and then did this _flaily_ movement which didn't fit Andy's whole body-image at all. Also, he still had Andy by the jaw, which kind of hurt when he flailed about like that. "And this isn't severe! It's fucking _freaky_!" He released Andy's face and scooted down a little; about a second too late, Andy realized that his ass was going to press right against that aching line of eager cock.

Matt went still and then delicately cleared his throat. "Hmm. Wow." After about four beats, during which Andy was trying hard not to breathe too hard, lest this dick of Matt's tried any funny moves, Matt's enviable equanimity kicked in and he forced Andy's features into a leer; this actually came across more creepy than anything else. Andy was suddenly a little concerned at the frightening state of his own leer. "Seems we have a huge problem on our hands. Huge."

"Oh god, Matt. Just get off me or do something about it," Andy snarled in desperation. "Don't just sit there."

Matt stared down at him for a long time. There was something darkly intrigued in his expression and his eyes flickered to the little Loki figurine on the night-table, caught up its tiny world of pain. Finally, he slid off; Andy sighed and made to get up.

Matt placed a hand against his chest and pushed him back down against the pillows. "Why do you think this happened to us?" he asked in a very quiet tone and Andy made a strangled noise of annoyance.

"I just woke up, how the fuck should I know? Come on, Matt, I need to--"

"Hey, guess what," Matt said conversationally and then licked his palm before sticking his hand down basketball shorts he himself had put on last night. Andy actually gaped at him as he felt strong fingers curl around his dick. Matt smirked back; at least a smirk looked a little better than a leer on Andy's face. "All of this here is my equipment, I kinda memorized the manual a long time ago."

Andy was about to tell him that jerking off was pretty much just the same for every dude and that he really didn't need his best friend showing him the proverbial ropes, because as hot as that was and as much as he had had these dreams about this very same scenario from time to time, only he had been in his own body, it really wasn't necessary, thanks _a lot_ ; but Matt tilted his head, hair as messy as a bird's-nest and eyes bright as they fixed on his. He looked kind of insane, even as he manipulated a handful of cock deftly, clambering right back on top of Andy; long hair tickled the skin Andy was in.

"Wait." Andy had a long, serious speech in his head; it was a _very_ organized and well thought-out speech, involving a stern reprimand for Matt's current crazy actions, but he looked down to where Matt had dragged down the shorts a little, at a pale, tattooed hand sliding slowly up and down a darkly flushed cock, thumb swiping almost thoughtfully across the leaking head before the other fingers half-timed their way back down to thatch of dark hair at the base, trimmed because Matt was a total metrosexual; his speech seeped right out of his head as Matt grabbed his hand and guided it into his own shorts. Andy hesitantly gripped the soft-hard warmth of his own cock with Matt's long fingers.

His brain refused to devote anymore space to this rigmarole, and instead focused completely on such lovely things as Matt kissing him soundly and groaning against his mouth, rocking his hips even as he crowded up against Andy.

Andy came hard enough to feel his eyes cross. _Fuck_ ; Matt groaned in annoyance and wrapped his hand around Andy's slackened one, urging him to _move_ , the slickness of come still on Matt's persistent fingers. Andy drew back a little and watched his own face, not knowing he flushed so red when having sex. Quite educational.

"Yeah," Matt panted and bit his lip, eyes half-closed as Andy moved his hand a little faster. Andy was pretty sure he didn't bite his lip when coming. "Fuck, _yeah_."

Andy was also reasonably certain he didn't make that amount of noise when he was under the influence of orgasm. Matt groaned and cursed, come splattering warmly on Andy's hands. He pressed limply against Andy for a moment, and Andy took the opportunity to wipe his hand on the shorts.

"Oh, save me," Matt said nonsensically, as he did most things, sliding off Andy to roll onto his back, breathing deeply. "Yeah."

"Well," Andy said, when his brain finally unscrambled. "That was completely unexpected, Matt."

Matt turned his head and blinked up at him. "What? What was that?"

Andy shrugged. "Nice, really nice. But, you know. Unexpected."

"Seriously?" Matt looked confused. "What, all the kissing you hello shit didn't tip you off? I totally go gay for you, and it's _unexpected_? You disappoint me, Hurley."

Andy stared at him, but Matt was now inspecting his arms, going, "Hey, you know, I always wanted to know what it's like having full sleeves."

 

* * *

 

Joe said, "Well, duh. It's that freaky little Loki doll you bought," when he came over on the pretext of spending a few days before jetting off to New York with Andy to meet Pete and Patrick. The rest of Fuck City thought it an elaborate joke when they tried to explain it, but Joe had been surprisingly easy to convince, after Andy had proved it by relating in detail that one occasion where Joe had drunkenly snuggled him when they were sharing a bed in someone's basement; Joe had spent a long time sniffing Andy's hair delightedly.

("I thought I told Andy not to tell _anybody_ that!"

"I didn't, you know I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah, you did," Matt had piped up, pushing Andy's glasses up his nose. "You told _me_ , remember? Not like everything, though, I didn't know the hair-smelling part, that's so creepy, dude, but yeah, you told me."

"...oh yeah.")

Or maybe Joe was so easy to convince because Joe's general state of existence routinely involved suspensions of reality.

"This isn't supposed to be _possible_ ," Andy explained grimly as he reached up to take a bowl that was stored at the top of the cupboard. Then he took a moment to really appreciate Matt's height. Joe ate a spoonful of ice-cream that he had pilfered from Stu's emergency supply and rolled his eyes.

"Hurley. You're trapped in someone else's body. I'm willing to bet that the Mega-Store of Possible is closed for the day."

"Weirdest thing: Everyone else here just laughed when Matt and I were trying to tell them."

"Because here at the _glamorous_ Fuck City, you're not Andy 'Why-So-Serious' Hurley," Joe said patiently and took another loving spoonful. "You're just this normal dude who'll dick around with anybody else. This is like, the most awesome ice-cream in the world."

"Rossman is going to boil your balls," Andy told him and groaned when Matt sailed by the doorway to the kitchen, his hair in two wild braids, looking for all the world like a male version of Pippi Longstocking. He could hear Kyle and Ryan hooting as Matt said, "You like? This is how I'm gonna play at the Today Show or something, watch me do it, man, just watch me."

"No, you're not!" Andy yelled.

"New fashion for the month!" Matt laughed. "Next style: Bo Derek braids!"

"Wow, is this real fruit?" Joe mused over the ice-cream as Andy loped out of the kitchen, in hot pursuit of Matt's fleeing little body. It was a little amusing to be racing after Matt. First of all, he was covering _so much ground_ in one stride. Secondly, he didn't know his own body was that fast. Well, yeah, he _knew_ , because once he got going, Matt could hardly ever catch him, but it was really funny to watch the way his own body twisted and slipped under the table, scooting out the opposite side and rushing back across the open area of the living room.

_I run like a girl_ , Andy observed with no irony whatsoever. A really fast girl, but a girl nonetheless. They pounded up the stairs while Stu discovered Joe's petty theft, yelling and struggling with Joe for the spoon.

Matt burst into Andy's room and made a flying leap for the bed, rolling across it like some soldier of fortune. Andy dived after him, grabbing him around the waist (oh god, his waist WAS that small, he always made faces when Matt teased him about it) and hauling him back.

"Help!" Matt hollered, trying to squirm out of Andy's grasp. Andy huffed as a flailing, bony knee caught him in the ribs. Andy managed to get him on his back, arms pinned down over his head, triumphantly using his greater weight against Matt's now smaller frame. "My Fuck City minions, your leader calls! Get this person off me!"

"Don't act like you don't like it!" Joe's voice floated up from downstairs. "Hey, _HEY_ I HAD THIS DELICIOUS TREAT FIRST."

"Dude, why do you always do this!" Stu yelled back. "Don't you have a house with your own ice-cream?"

"Ow, I'm heavy," Matt complained as a scuffle erupted downstairs. He scowled up at Andy's smirk; the braids were unraveling, brown hair curling around his face. "I'll never sit on you again, promise." His eyes widened as Andy sat up, cracking his knuckles. "Wait, wait, Hurley, _wait_ \--"

Andy attacked. Not many people knew that he was ticklish to a fault; but _he_ knew the best places on his own body to tickle for maximum effect. Matt was shrieking in laughter and bucking wildly as Andy let Matt's fingers do the walking. Or torturing, whatever.

"Why so awesome and fun and _gay_ , you guys?" someone asked mildly from the door, and Andy paused in his mission to stare at Joe, who had melted ice-cream on his cheek like battle-paint. "So. What are you going to do when we have to do that promo-thing on TRL?"

 

* * *

 

"Hey, if I knew I'd be stuck in your body," Matt said patiently as Andy scowled, "I'd have totally asked for time off."

"You seriously can't expect me to work in the bar for you," Andy growled and Matt paused in the middle of dragging Andy's bag to the door. Joe was actually sneaking around the kitchen, searching for more hidden wonder from Ross' stash. It was barely light out, and Matt was happily preparing to go to New York dressed in Andy's body.

"I do! You don't want to lose my job, right? If you make me lose my job, then I'd have to stay home and feel like I'm not contributing anything to the household, you want that?"

"Really?" Andy frowned even more. "You-- you'd feel that way?"

"Oh yeah!" Matt's expression was too guileless to be sincere. "I'd totally feel unhappy and... I dunno, maybe cry?"

"I got these cookies, let's _go_ ," Joe muttered, rushing outside with a box clutched close to his chest.

"Look," Andy said sternly. "Just. Keep low-keyed. And be cool."

Matt gave him a look filled with as much scorn he could muster. "Dude," he intoned, placing a hand on his chest delicately, "I am a man _made_ of cool."

"Is Trohman still here?" A sleepy Ryan staggered down the steps. "Did he take anything?"

"Gotta go," Matt said hurriedly and went up on tip-toes to place a quick kiss on Andy's mouth. He grinned as Andy blinked down at him. "See, that was _see-you-later_. We usually do _hello_ , but I'm starting a whole new trend." He gave Andy a look that was a little nervous and a lot giddy; the thought of jetting off in Andy's place was obviously exciting.

Andy wanted to tell him that a giddy expression wasn't a good look for him, and maybe another kiss wouldn't be so bad, but Matt literally fled the scene as Ryan cried, "Oh god, THE WHOLE BOX?!"

Andy wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he could hear the Joe's car peeling out.

 

* * *

 

Tending bar... could have been worse. After Andy yelled, "Hey, it's Nonalcoholic Mixon Monday!" and the whole bar laughed uproariously and then asked for their drinks in very threatening tones, all he had to do was pour and smile. Pour and smile.

He was really gritting his teeth, but no-one had to know that. Every sXe fiber he had in his body was rearing up in affront, but the part of him that grudgingly wanted to help Matt keep his job was doing a good turn in stifling all those fibers. Anyway, he'd watched Matt to know enough, and it wasn't as if he never used to drink himself, all those years ago; it was also a good thing he picked up fast, because these people drank like fucking _camels_.

"Matt!" A dark-haired young woman was leaning over the bar, her shirt unbuttoned to a dangerously low level, grinning at him. "Remember my poison?"

Andy gave her a carefully blank stare, until he remembered it would make Matt's expression appear extremely vapid; so he leaned in, the way he'd seen Matt do it, hoping his grin was at that sultry curve that Matt had patented. Had to keep up Matt's reputation, even though Matt insisted on going gay for him... which was really surprisingly nice. Awesome, even. "Remind me," he rumbled and the woman's smile was sharp.

"Hmm. I like to be surprised, Mix, you know that! Hey, how's your so-called tiny little boyfriend?"

Andy nearly sloshed alcohol over Matt's shoes. " _What_?"

"You know." The woman plucked the glass from his hand, downed it in one go and flicked her hair over her shoulder as she handed it back. "You keep telling me, 'oh I have a boyfriend, a little tiny one, sorry', as if anyone would believe _that_." She made a scoffing noise. "You. A boyfriend. Come on."

Andy watered down her next drink as much as he could, smiling widely all the time. If only he could piss in it.

 

* * *

 

"Okay," Andy said with great gravity to the little tortured Loki figurine. "So. When is this going to end."

No answer. Andy reached out and poked Matt's little gift with a tentative finger; it moved a little from its post on his night-table, but no response was forthcoming. It still felt far warmer than it should have, the carved grooves of wild hair almost silky under his touch. He frowned, leaning forward. There was no-one else in the house, and the low hum of the fridge downstairs seemed surprisingly loud in the strange stillness. Andy tilted his head, not focusing on Loki for a moment.

Silence.

The Mis Sig guys had gone out from fairly early this morning, loudly rousing Andy out of his bed and insisting on pancakes. Andy's brain had been completely bemused and he'd been on auto-pilot as he'd mixed whole-wheat flour. How was Matt able to be so cheerful this early? Anytime Andy was leaving on tour, Matt would get up and putter around with him, laughing endlessly. Andy felt like strangling Kyle when he pouted over the lack of berries in the pancakes; the only reason he didn't do it was because he was still half-asleep.

The house was completely still and silent, and it was surprisingly nerve-wracking. Andy was used to people yelling all the time. Pete's hoarse yells or Patrick singing random snatches of song. Something was _always_ happening in his general vicinity and he'd gotten used to it. He didn't think he had, he thought he'd removed himself mentally from the whole... _celebrity_ of it, to be properly disdainful about the whole thing.

Apparently not. He made a face and pushed the little troublesome carving, sending it toppling over onto its side.

The silence reigned as he walked through the house, feeling as if he was searching for something he'd never find. He did a little cleaning, wandered around the back to stare at the restless grey surface of the lake. He stood there with the sand pressing warmly against the soles of his bare feet and thought, _it's a fucking awesome house, but it's not home unless we're all here_.

He went upstairs and read a stack of comics in Matt's bed. Then he did the Sun Salutation in his own room (Matt's body was surprisingly flexible for a dude that laughed at Andy's yoga routine) and ended the whole session in corpse pose, lying still on his back and breathing quietly, letting the house do its own inhaling and exhaling around him. Usually, Matt would be out and about, doing hyper shit with Tyler or some other random person and maybe that was what prevented him from going crazy with loneliness whenever the rest of them weren't around.

He felt Matt's heart beating solidly as he relaxed different parts of his body, his breathing slowing down even more. At the slowest inhale, he imagined the looks on his house-mate's faces when they came home, walking in so tired, cranky and delighted to be warm and fed properly again. In particular, he thought of Matt's wide grin as he came through the door, eyes warm as he said: Hey, Hurley, you're _home_.

Andy smiled.

 

* * *

 

It didn't go exactly like that; first of all, Matt was still wearing Andy's body, and it was his own face Andy stared at as he sat up from the sofa, setting down the thick book he was reading.

"I don't know how you do it," Matt said in a hushed voice, leaning against the door as he let the duffel-bag fall from his grip. He looked wan and pale, his eyes gleaming with exhaustion.

"I saw you on TRL, man," Andy said, getting up carefully and approaching Matt in the way one would sidle near to an injured wildcat. He _did_ look kind of like a wildcat, eyes large and dangerous behind the glasses, the roar of the crowds and the heat of the lights still running through his veins. If this was the way he looked all the time he came home, then no wonder Matt kissed him and coddled him and fussed over him ceaselessly.

He watched Matt tilt his chin as he stepped closer, arms reaching up in a way Andy would never had done, settling around his neck with tired heaviness.

"Dude, you were fucking _chatty_ ," he observed and kissed Matt slowly. "You made me look personable and shit like that. You out-talked _Pete_." It had been kind of hilarious, actually. Joe had been on the very brink of bursting out into peals of laughter, while Patrick and Pete had stared at Matt in confusion as he had totally dominated the interview, his smile wide and slightly manic. Andy had been torn between amusement and exasperation; what had happened to being _cool_?

"Couldn't help it," Matt muttered through grateful, welcoming kisses. "I'm awesome like that. By the way? Your fans are insane. I thought they were going to eat me."

"Hey," Andy said, dragging him towards the stairs and up to his room. "Welcome home."

 

* * *

 

His own body was so short and slender, all long lean muscle writhing against Matt's tall, solid body. It was completely narcissistic and totally awesome to think how Matt's hand cupped the curve of his ass perfectly and how Matt's _café au lait_ fingers stroked against pale skin, tripping over colourful ink to pluck at one eagerly puckered nipple. His voice seemed lower than usual, panting helplessly in the curl of Matt's ear and when he turned his head to see the little Loki figure not toppled as he left it earlier, but upright and facing them, he frowned at it for a moment before being distracted by the way Matt wrapped strong legs around his hips and arched up against him; _everything_ shook and shuddered and slid sideways as he came. It may have been the orgasm or maybe the way he found himself shoved almost forcefully back in his own body, Matt heavy between his thighs and blinking down at him.

"Huh," Matt said and then grimaced. "Owww what the fuck did you do to my _back_?"

"Stretched it properly," Andy informed him and wriggled, making faces at the sticky cooling come between them. "Get off me, I want to see if you did anything stupid, like get unauthorised ink."

"Shut up," Matt sighed, managing to locate someone's underpants from where it had been haphazardly flung near the pillow, wiping their bare chests and stomachs. Andy would have struggled with an uncharacteristic blush if he hadn't been feeling so fucking bone-tired.

"I love coming home," Matt continued contentedly, shifting and rolling so they were still tangled together on their sides. Andy reached over Matt's shoulder, grasped onto the Loki figurine and tossed it away towards the open door of his closet.

"I'm throwing it in the lake tomorrow," he vowed and allowed himself to snuggle up to Matt. "Before it causes any more trouble."

"Like turn us into girls, right?"

"Ha fucking _ha_. Go to sleep."

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Joe burst into Andy's room with his usual lack of respect for closed doors, a large sandwich clutched in one hand as he ignored Ryan's yells downstairs. Andy stirred, blinking owlishly as Joe stared. "Why so awesome and fun and _female_ , you guys?" he leered, making sure to get an solid eyeful of two pairs of shiny new breasts as he took a large bite of sandwich. "Yow, no way they won't believe you guys about all that freaky shit now, right?"

"Oh fuck, no," Andy groaned, trying to pull the sheet up even as Matt grabbed a double handful of soft breast and fucking _beamed_. "Shit, where'd I put that little fucking _thing_?"

Joe laughed delightedly, placing the Loki carving in his back-pocket, and took another huge bite of stolen sandwich.

Fuck City, in Joe's humble opinion, was _the shit_.

 

_fin?_


End file.
